


to inferno, inferno

by enrai (tookumade)



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Feelings Realization, Goodbyes, Happy Ending, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22267213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/pseuds/enrai
Summary: “I’m leaving Promepolis,” says Lio.Galo learns the art of letting go, and the meaning of home.
Relationships: Lio Fotia & Galo Thymos, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 43
Kudos: 421





	to inferno, inferno

A little over seven months after everything that had happened with the Parnassus spaceship and the departure of the Promare, the government had announced that Burning Rescue would be disbanded. Changes would slowly be made over the next few months: all members across the brigade have been reassigned, there are plans for some of their stations to be converted into community and municipal buildings, and Burning Rescue’s funding and resources would be spread out over the regular firefighting and other rescue and emergency services. 

From squad 3, Captain Ignis will be given command of a newly formed squad in the regular firefighting brigade. Remi will take up the vice captain role for another new squad. Aina will join one of the aerial firefighting and rescue squads. Lucia and Fex Industries will expand and continue to provide all manner of machinery work across the brigade in general. Varys and Galo have been reassigned to different squads.

And Lio—

“I’m leaving Promepolis,” says Lio.

It takes Galo a little time to fully register what he’d just said. It’s now been a month since the disbandment announcement, eight months after the Promare’s departure, and Lio is still kept busy. Him being here at the FDPP today had already been a surprise—Galo had thought he’d be over in sections A16, A17, and A18 all day, sorting out deliveries of supplies and some housing issues involving former Burnish. But it’s afternoon now, Galo is scheduled to go over some paperwork with his new squad captain in an hour and is currently lounging on one of the couches in the recreation area, using his tablet to scroll through a website for motorcycle parts on sale, and Lio is here too, sitting on the furthest end of the other couch with his hands clutched around a mug of tea, and… and…

“What?” says Galo. He hadn’t realised he had been holding his breath.

Lio isn’t looking at him, staring at his tea instead. “There are a lot of Burnish outside of Promepolis who still need help, so I’m going to see what needs to be done. I’ve got to get some affairs in order here, but I’m leaving in two weeks—” 

“ _Two_ —”

“I’m only going to be travelling around the country. It’s not like I have a passport. I’ll be back, I just… I just don’t know when.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Galo sits up straight. He tries to keep his voice from sounding too accusatory, but the irksome twitch in Lio’s brow tells him he screwed that up. “How long are you planning on leaving for?”

“I don’t know,” says Lio evenly.

“What about Gueira and Meis?”

“What about them?”

“Are they going with you?”

Lio hesitates before answering, “No. I’m going by myself.”

“But—”

“We’re not kids, Galo. We can look after ourselves. I’ve asked them to take care of things in Promepolis while I’m gone.”

 _Gone_. It sounds almost permanent, now. There’s an unpleasant tightness in Galo’s chest.

“But… Promepolis is your _home!_ You can’t ju—”

“Promepolis,” says Lio, voice raised just loud enough to stop Galo mid-word, “is not my home.” And then, softer: “Promepolis was never home for me.”

“It could be,” says Galo before he can stop himself. Lio doesn’t even deign him with an answer, and simply raises his mug of tea to take a sip. But the look on his face is heavy, and Galo thinks Lio wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He almost wishes he would, just so Galo could have something to argue against, to convince him that they still needed him here, that they still had so much work to do rebuilding Promepolis into a kinder, safer city for Burnish and non-Burnish alike.

“Who else knows?” Galo asks instead.

From the start, Lio had avoided looking at him, but now, it seems a little more obvious.

“A few people,” he says stiffly. And then, after a pause: “Everyone.”

“ _What?_ ”

“It was—I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. And apparently, the answer is: not well.”

Something like shame rears in Galo’s chest. He leans back against the couch and looks at Lio— _really_ looks at him, at all of him. Lio is sitting stiffly, his back arrow-straight, knees pressed together, and with both hands clutched tightly around his mug for the entire exchange as if trying to draw courage from it. He looks… diminished. Cornered. Uncomfortable.

Just last week, Lio and Galo had both gotten into a play-fight and knocked over one of Lucia’s prototype mini portable solar-powered heating units, smashing it to the ground. After being yelled at, apologising profusely, and then promising they’d both help her test some other prototypes later in the day, she let them leave, and they both had a mostly-guilty laughing fit over it together on the FDPP’s rooftop. The week before that, Galo had gifted Lio a new bright red thermos (“It’s Burning Rescue red!”) that didn’t keep liquids cold very well (“They’re _useless_.”), but was great for hot liquids (“It’ll burn your mouth even hours later, it’s _really_ good!”). He remembers Lio turning it over and over in his hands, smiling wide. The week before that, Galo had accompanied Lio to section B14 to oversee the distribution of toiletries, but had been hopelessly distracted by all the kids there who wanted piggy-back rides, arm-wrestles, and impromptu kick-about games with an old soccer ball they had found. If this had been months ago when he and Lio were still sort-of strangers right after the Promare’s departure, he might’ve expected Lio to snap at him to focus, stop fooling around, and help out. But instead, he delighted in the sound of Lio’s laughter, ringing clear in the afternoon sky.

The point is: they didn’t _do_ ‘uncomfortable’, especially not with each other. Nothing ever _made_ Lio diminished and cornered. If he had something to say to Galo, then he looked him right in the eye and said it. Here, now—nothing about this is familiar. Nothing feels right.

“Sorry,” says Galo with difficulty. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You should… You should do what makes you happy.”

Apparently, these weren’t the right words either, because when Lio finally raises his head to look at him, an odd expression crosses his face that Galo can’t read, and Galo has no idea what either of them wants anymore. He looks away, back to the website he had been on, and continues scrolling through, but he’s not paying attention.

Without another word, Lio stands from the couch and leaves.  
  


* * *

  
With the announcement of the disbandment, all members in the Burning Rescue squads who reside at their local FDPP stations—squad 3 included—have all been preparing new living arrangements. The new government has been patient, or maybe just busy with other more time-sensitive things, and was not at all fussed about rushing them. But given that everyone would be splitting up and taking on new roles and responsibilities, it wasn’t so convenient living at the FDPP stations anymore. Lio, Gueira, and Meis, who had all been residing at squad 3’s headquarters at Ignis’ invitation, were also in the process of making alternate arrangements—or, at least, Gueira and Meis were.

“You still haven’t sorted out getting a place to live, have you? You’re the last one,” Aina says while in the FDPP’s garage. She’s sitting on the floor and leaning against Remi’s decommissioned mecha suit, scrolling through her phone; she’s got time to kill before going to meet her new aerial rescue squad for some practice drills. Galo is sitting beside his motorbike and doing light maintenance. Usually, he’d be poking at Lio and seeing if there’s something he can help with, but after he had dropped that bomb on Galo two days ago… just being in the same building as him felt awkward.

“Mm… I’ll figure something out,” says Galo absently, working on cleaning the roller chain.

“It’s been _weeks_.”

“Been busy.”

“We’ve _all_ been busy. Are you just gonna stick around until the commissioner makes you to leave?”

Galo grins. “You know I respect the commissioner and all, but that could be funny.”

Aina gives a huff of stifled laughter herself. “Well, since you haven’t got it sorted yet, I’ve actually been thinking… what do you think about being housemates? You and me. I mean, I’ve seen your room, and surprisingly, you’re not _that_ much of a slob—”

“Hey!”

“I mean, you’re not _neat_ , but you’re not _bad_ , either. You’re, like… an average slob—”

“ _Hey!_ ”

“It’s not a bad thing! _Anyway_ —at my new place, I’ve got a spare room that I’m just using for storage. You can move in. We can split rent. It can just be temporary if you wanna get your own place later on. I actually checked, and it’s within walking distance to your new squad’s station.”

“That’s…” Galo raises his head and eyes her for a moment. “That’s really sweet, Aina. Thanks. I’ll think about it, okay?”

And he turns his attention back to his bike, finishing up with the roller chain he’d been working on. Aina has not replied, but he can feel her eyes staring holes into his head.

“Did you see where I put my Allen key set?” Galo asks.

“I think it’s behind your butt.”

“Oh… thanks.”

“You’re… quieter than usual. Is something bothering y—…” Aina trails off, breath held, and when Galo flicks her a quizzical look, she says: “Oh… Lio finally told you, huh?”

The Allen key Galo is holding slips from his hand and clinks onto the concrete ground.

“‘Finally’? How long have you known?” he says, looking at her with a frown.

“Well… that depends on how angry you’re gonna get with the answer,” says Aina, a little defensively.

Galo picks up his Allen key again. “I’m not—I’m not _angry_.”

Aina regards him for a moment, before sighing and nodding. “Yeah, you don’t really get angry,” she murmurs. “He told me… three weeks ago, I think?”

“ _Three weeks?_ ” Galo squawks.

“It hasn’t been easy for him!” says Aina. “He still wasn’t completely sure he’d be leaving when he told me. If you give him a hard time about it, I’m gonna German suplex you.”

Honestly, she probably could without breaking a single sweat.

“I’m _really_ not angry!” says Galo. And maybe that’s the worst thing about all this—he doesn’t know _what_ he’s feeling. He only knows that it’s ugly and crushing and he’s made it uglier by reacting so badly when Lio told him. Whatever it is, he hates it, because… because Lio didn’t deserve any of this. “It just came as a shock to me, so I—… well, I mean, I guess I overreacted, but I’m really not _mad_.”

“Does _he_ know that, though?” says Aina. “Because it sounds to me like you should probably talk to him again and sort things out.”

“There’s nothing to sort out. He’s already made up his mind.”

When she doesn’t reply, Galo looks up to see her observing him with her lips puckered and twisted, an exaggerated thinking face. Galo shrugs exasperatedly. “What, I should argue with him until he says he’ll stay?”

“No, that’d just be cruel of you.” Aina frowns at him and falls silent again. Galo briefly considers quickly fixing up his bike and then simply speeding away in case she asks anything else, but the truth is, he hasn’t seen Aina in over a week and misses hanging out with her. He had helped her move into her apartment a few weeks ago, but she’d since been busy trying to settle in and organise electricity and internet services and the like, along with paperwork and all sorts of things relating to her new aerial firefighting and rescue squad. Likewise, Galo had been helping the others with their moves as well, and he also had a lot of things to organise with his new squad, though he wasn’t set to officially start with them for another month. Not that that stopped him from occasionally tagging along with them.

He’s in the middle of replacing the air filter for his bike with a new one, when Aina says quietly: 

“He’s not Kray Foresight.” 

Galo freezes, hands stilling. Slowly, slowly, almost painfully, he raises his head to stare at her.

“So, uh,” he says with a strained attempt at a laugh. “You wanna tell me something more obvious, or…?”

“He’s not him, Galo,” says Aina seriously. “Lio is not someone you need to say goodbye to.”

“I don’t… _what_ brought this on so suddenly?”

“I just… I want you to remember that, okay? You’ve got people who _really_ care about you, and, yes, that includes Lio. Maybe even more so than the rest of us. So… talk to him, okay? Promise me you’ll talk to him.”

“We talk all the time.”

“Mm…”

“You can’t just drop that on me and then get all cryptic about it! I’m too much of an idiot for non-firefighting stuff!” Galo protests.

“No, you’re really not,” says Aina. “You’re a firefighting idiot, but you’re not stupid, Galo. You’re surprisingly sensitive—”

“Again with the ‘ _surprising_ ’—”

“—and in-tune with people’s emotions. That’s one reason you’re such a good rescuer.”

“ _Now_ you’re complimenting me? This is giving me whiplash.”

Aina sighs. “And you’re changing the topic. Just promise me you’ll talk to him before he leaves.”

“Two weeks,” Galo mutters, resuming prodding the new air filter into his bike. “We’ve got two weeks.”

“Two weeks isn’t a long time, Galo. Oh!” Aina straightens her back with a gasp, eyes wide and seriousness vanishing from her face. “We should have a party! It could be, like, a going-away party for Lio, and one last party for squad 3! They haven’t cut all our funds yet… we could do something nice and simple… ohh, why didn’t I think of this before? I’ve got to plan and let the others know!” She scrambles to her feet. “I’ll see you later, Galo! Think about what I said, okay?”

“Which bit?”

“All of it!”  
  
And with that, she dashes out of the garage. Galo shakes his head, and tries very hard not think about their conversation.

(It sticks to him, clings to him like something even more stubborn than he is, and he doesn’t understand any of it.)  
  


* * *

  
The next few days are uneventful. Galo and Lio barely see each other. This isn’t too surprising—they’re both often busy, but usually they’d still try to have breakfast together, or make an effort to at least chat in the kitchen at the end of the day over a hot chocolate or some snacks. But since Lio dropped that bomb about leaving, they had done little more than mutter a ‘hey’ to each other or nod in greeting as they hurried to their next destination for the day—and that’s only if Lio isn’t making phone calls and juggling several folders of paperwork, dashing through the building and paying little attention to his surroundings. Sometimes Galo would open his mouth to try and make small talk, to force himself to say something more than a ‘hey’ but Lio never hung around long enough to hear it.

One morning, Galo runs into Gueira and Meis in one of the corridors near the living quarters. 

“Where are you guys headed today?” he calls out, and they turn around.

“Hey, man,” Meis greets him. “Boss wanted us to take care of some paperwork over in D4 to D7 today. Public transport’s all over the place, but what can we do?”

“Oh…” Galo scratches his neck absently. “I don’t have anything on until the evening. Want a lift? We can take one of the cars.”

“You can drive? Legally?” Meis asks at the same as Gueira says, “They let _you_ take a car?”

“You _can_ just _walk!_ ” Galo splutters indignantly. With joking grins, they begin ushering him towards the stairs leading out, towards the FDPP’s garage.

After a best-of-three rock-paper-scissors battle, Meis takes the passenger seat (the loser’s punishment; Galo threatens them again with walking) and Gueira sprawls out over the back seats of one of the station wagons with the FDPP logo emblazoned on its side.

“Put your seatbelt on, or so _help me_ —”

“All right, _all right!_ ”

They eventually drive off, and Galo makes sure to go extra smoothly out of something _vaguely_ resembling spite. His old driving instructor would have been proud.

“Sooo… where’s Lio today?” he asks, hoping he sounds as casual as he’s pretending to be.

“Going through the entire E section,” Meis supplies. “He’s trying to finalise stuff before he leaves, since he won’t be back for a while.”

Galo’s stomach swoops unpleasantly. “Oh.”

“You really didn’t take his news well, huh?” Gueira pips up.

“How did y—… he told you? Wait, of course he told you.”

“He only said that you both spoke about it. He didn’t look happy, though; that’s how we know it didn’t go well. You’re lucky you’re driving right now, or I’d be kicking your—”

“Gueira,” says Meis patiently. Gueira falls silent after making an annoyed sound in his throat. “The boss asked us to not fuss about it, so this is us not fussing.”

“ _How?_ ” Galo demands. “I don’t get it. _How_ are you guys okay with him leaving?”

Gueira snorts. “Who says we’re okay with it?” 

“Why don’t you try convincing him to stay, then?”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Meis look over his shoulder to exchange looks with Gueira.

“What you have to understand,” says Meis, “is that he gave us _everything_.”

“Yeah, I know. You met him when Freeze Force were attacking you, and he got you out of there.”

“You _don’t_ know. That’s the abridged version. It was way more than that,” says Gueira. “Look… us Mad Burnish, before we met the boss? We were ready to die. We didn’t have long-term plans, and we knew we couldn’t keep outrunning the government, but we were going to try anyway, and we’d give ‘em hell and wreck as much as we could while we were at it. ‘Live fast, die young’—that sort of thing. But then we met the boss. We were squaring off against some Freeze Force assholes, and suddenly— _boom!_ —there he was! Like he fell outta the damn sky.”

Meis gives a huff of laughter, fond. “He really did, huh?”

“We just looked up and there he was. Knocked back Freeze Force like they were nothing. We’d _never_ seen anyone use Burnish fire like he did.”

“Remember when he made an arrow to shoot down that ball of fire you threw?”

“Shit was incredible! _Way_ outta our league. And after we all escaped, he told us we were being dumbasses”—Meis gives a bark of laughter—“and then? He showed us a new way to live. He showed us that we didn’t have to be reckless—we could be free. For the first time I could remember, he gave us… _hope_. Like Meis said: he gave us _everything_. So we’ll give him whatever he asks for in return.” 

There’s reverence in Gueira’s voice that has Galo had never heard in the eight months they’ve known each other. He had known the story of how they met, about Lio’s grand plan for the Burnish to live together far away from those who sought to do them harm, about how Lio stood as a figurehead and something of a legend, and how Gueira and Meis would fight until their last breaths for him—but he hadn’t heard it this way before.

Gueira leans over to clap a hand on his shoulder, which jumps Galo out of his thoughts and his foot twitches on the brake for a split second. “Big guy! You’re not gonna turn to a life of crime and run a yellow light on us, are you?”

Meis snickers. Galo pulls a face.

“Very funny, asshat,” he says. “No, it’s just… I guess I just thought you’d go with him.”

“We wanted to,” says Meis. “Believe me, I don’t think we’ve ever argued with him like that before. But he was set on going by himself. He said he trusted us to hold down the fort over here while he’s out there, so… that’s what we’ll do. And we’ll wait for him to come back.”

“He told me he wasn’t sure when he’d be back.”

“Then, we’ll just keep waiting,” says Gueira. “Time’ll probably fly; we still have a shit-tonne of work to do over here, and I think the boss understands that most of all. It doesn’t matter what we want, or how much we want to go with him. Our work is bigger than all of us. You gotta understand that too, man.”

“I’m _trying_. It’s just… it’s gonna be so weird, him not being around.”

“None of us like it, either,” says Meis. “And the boss… he puts on a brave face all the time, but honestly? He’s probably really nervous—not just about going out there, but about leaving here, too. Leaving us… leaving things that were starting to be familiar to him. So, we need to make things as easy as possible for him to do what he wants.”

“So, if you’re gonna give him a hard time about it—” Gueira begins.

“I’m _not_ ,” Galo protests. Sheesh, first Aina, now them… “He and I have barely spoken since he told me!”

Gueira scowls at him. “And you think that’s ‘not giving him a hard time’, huh?”

“The _hell_ , man.” Galo’s eyes flicker up into the rear-view mirror, and they glare at each other.

“ _Gueira_ ,” says Meis, a warning in his tone Galo has never heard before. 

“I just—” Gueira gives a helpless shrug. “All right, I’m… that was uncalled for. Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” Galo runs a hand through his hair roughly. “It’s okay, really. You’re looking out for him, I get that. You know, you talk about how lucky you are to have met him, but he’s really lucky to have you guys, too. And I guess… that’s another reason why I don’t understand him leaving.”

He hears Gueira sigh before he says quietly: “He always used to say: ‘We Burnish are free’. This can’t be an exception. We just gotta let him go.”

They all fall silent for a few blocks, passing yards and yards of temporary fencing and construction work, past cranes and traffic cones, warning signs, new traffic lights. Galo’s not sure he’s ever seen so much bright yellow and orange before in all his years of living here. His city, his home, is healing and rebuilding…

“Is Promepolis home for you guys?” he asks.

“Nah,” they chime in almost perfect unison with hardly any hesitation.

“Oh.”

“No offence,” says Meis helpfully. “It’s just—”

“Nah, I know,” says Galo. “Lio pretty much said the same thing.”

“We’ve been on the move for a long time. ‘Home’ isn’t something we really think about,” says Gueira. “As far as we’re concerned, this shit-hole is just a place of work. We’ll have time to kick back and relax and think about the sentiments later down the track. Look, I’m sorry, man. I know it’s your home and all, but—”

“Don’t worry about it. You guys have been through enough; I get it.” And then, because they could all use a lighter atmosphere, he uses a more teasing voice: “More importantly, I didn’t expect you to be such a hard worker!”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I mean, people look at you and Meis, and it’s obvious Meis is the more—”

Meis starts laughing and Gueira starts yelling at Galo. The mood suddenly lifts, and both bicker until they reach the community centre in D7 several minutes later, carrying on even as Gueira and Meis climb out of the station wagon. 

“—and _for the record_ , it happened _three times_ before we could—” Gueira is snapping through Galo’s driver seat window.

Grinning, Galo ignores him and looks over at Meis. “Will you guys need a lift back afterwards? I can see if there’s someone free to drive you.”

“Nah, we’ll be okay, but thanks for the ride,” says Meis, jabbing Gueira in the ribs with his elbow. “You’re not a bad driver, big guy.”

“Obviously! I nearly had a perfect score when I took my license test!”

“God, get outta here already,” says Gueira, but he’s grinning too. “Safe drive back.”

“See you, Galo.”

“Have a good day, guys. Meis, make sure Gueira isn’t slacking off!” And Galo drives off. In rear-view mirror, Gueira is flipping both his middle fingers up at him. Meis is laughing again.  
  


* * *

  
There’s just over one week left until Lio is set to leave Promepolis. Every time Galo thinks about it, he feels a lurching in his stomach, like he’s suddenly looking down over the edge of a high cliff. He racks his brain, trying to come up with things he could possibly say to him—small talk, questions, offers to help with anything. But every time he sees Lio, he forgets everything and his voice dies in his throat. He’s not sure why—he never has this problem with anyone else, not even Lio before all this. Sometimes, Lio looks like he wants to say something too, but Galo never hears it. He wonders if it’s the same for him—that Lio also has a carefully planned script in his mind and inane back-up questions, but when he looks at Galo, he forgets everything, too. 

This distance is… odd. Everything’s been odd. Galo can take excitement, unpredictability, a change in routine, but this wasn’t any of those.

Dammit. He really didn’t handle change as well as he thought, did he?

Today, he’d finished up at a small community engagement event outside the local library hosted by his new firefighting squad, which involved a barbeque, a jumping castle, face-painting, games and prizes, trying to keep their mascot (their vice-captain wearing a large bear costume) from bumping into things, and enough hyperactive children that even Galo felt exhausted by the end of it.

It’s late afternoon now, and he’s back at the FDPP. He has time for a break before he has some training to get to in the evening, and as he’s walking through one of the corridors, he spots a familiar figure up ahead.

“Captain!” Galo calls out, and Ignis turns around. “Hi! I didn’t know you were coming down today.”

“Galo,” Ignis says, nodding at him. He holds up a thick manila envelope. “I had to get together a bunch of files I need to take the commissioner later, that’s all.”

“Do you need a hand with anything?”

“No, it’s all good. You doing okay, kiddo?”

Galo gives him a little grin. “I’m still a ‘kiddo’?”

“Always. It’s a step up from ‘rookie’.”

“So, what’s Aina?”

“‘Aina’.”

“Oh.”

He could’ve sworn he’d heard Ignis give a tiny huff of laughter behind his moustache. That was typical of Ignis: that he never let out anything like a hearty belly laugh (at least, he hadn’t in all of Galo’s time under his command, and apparently Aina had never heard it, either), but his unflappable nature was never intimidating, never stifling, never so detached that he was unapproachable and people couldn’t joke with him.

Galo straightens his back. “Hey, Captain?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“I, uh, just wanted to say thank you for everything,” says Galo. “For taking a rookie like me into Burning Rescue, and for teaching me everything you did. I mean, I know that Gov—uh, Kray…” He shakes his head. “He was the one who organised that, but—anyway! I learnt a lot from you, and I’ll always be grateful.”

Ignis regards him in stoic silence for a little while. It’s often hard to tell what he’s thinking, even without his sunglasses on. (It’s all very cool—Galo could never pull any of it off, but he’s okay with that. In his mind, it’s an Ignis Ex trademark. Ignis Ex™)

“It’s true that Kray Foresight was the reason you joined,” says Ignis at last. “But honestly? I think it was only a matter of time. I think I speak for everyone when I say that we learnt a lot from you, too. You’re a hell of a guy, Galo. Any squad would be lucky to have you.”

Whatever Galo was expecting him to say, a whole string of compliments was not it. He stares at Ignis, stunned, and makes a strangled sort of noise.

“That’s way too many surprises for me,” he mumbles.

“Hm? Something on your mind?”

“No, nothing.” Galo pauses, stares down at the floor for a moment, and then says, “Actually…”

“Wait, let’s go talk in the rec area. I’ve got some time before I’m meant to meet the commissioner. You haven’t thrown out my Coronas, have you?”

A grin pulls at Galo’s mouth. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good. Come on, kiddo.”

Ignis turns and starts walking towards the stairs, and Galo follows, keeping a short distance behind him the whole time—a habit out of respect from day one that he hadn’t realised he’d kept until just now. Hah… maybe some things didn’t change.

They make their way down to the rec area. Ignis heads for the fridge in the kitchen, and Galo flops down on the couch. A tiny voice reminds him that he’d sat in that exact spot when Lio had told him he was leaving. He pushes the thought away and moves to the middle of the couch instead.

“Want a Corona?” Ignis calls out. 

“No, thanks. I’ve got training to go to later on.”

“Ah.” Ignis reappears, popping the cap off a bottle for himself and taking a swig. He leans against the yellow railing surrounding the rec area, casting an impressive figure. “And how have things been with the new squad?”

Galo shrugs. “Fine. Kind of fun? I mean, I haven’t officially started with them, but they still let me go with them to their rescues sometimes, I’m just not allowed to do any proper rescue work yet. Now that we don’t have to deal with Burnish fires anymore, it’s a lot quieter, but still enough to do to keep us busy. The captain’s pretty cool. She reminds me a bit of Varys.”

“Your captain and I went through the academy together,” says Ignis nodding. “We aren’t close, but she’s one of the most resourceful people I know, and she always looks after her squad. You’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried,” says Galo.

“And yet…?” Ignis looks at him shrewdly. It’s somehow obvious, even through those sunglasses.

Distractedly, Galo picks at a loose thread at the stitching of his pants as he pulls his thoughts together. “I haven’t really handled everyone splitting up very well,” he admits. “I mean, of course, not having Burnish fires around is safer, but I just… I wish we all could’ve transferred to the same squad, or something. And Lio’s leaving Promepolis soon and… I didn’t take it well when he told me, I screwed up and got all upset at him, and we haven’t spoken properly since, and it just… it _really sucks_.”

Ignis sets his Corona down on the table between them and scratches his chin thoughtfully before saying, “You know, it was offered to me as an option, having you transfer to my new squad. But I rejected it.” 

Galo looks taken aback. “What? Why?”

“Because I think it’d benefit everyone for you to work under different commands and with different colleagues. You would learn a lot from all sorts of people, and they can learn from a hot-head like you. I’ve seen you on the field, obviously—I’ve seen you adapt and improvise in ways that surprises even me, and I think there are a lot of lessons to be taken from that. But you still have a lot that you could learn out there, too, so this would be a good opportunity for you all to teach each other.” Ignis pauses, folds his arms across his chest, and peers at Galo over his sunglasses.

“We’re firefighters, Galo. We’re always heading into danger and risking our lives every time we’re out there doing our job. It’s important we’re comfortable with our squads, but it’s equally important that we don’t get _complacent_ —with our squads, or with ourselves. Always on our toes, always watching each other’s backs, always learning and _evolving_. And—I think this applies to Lio, too—sometimes, that means leaving behind what was comfortable to us.”

There’s a tightness in Galo’s chest, an unwelcome swoop in his stomach. He thinks about how cornered Lio had looked when he told Galo his news. He thinks about Lio moving forward, leaving everything behind for the greater good.

“Did you have to do that, Captain?” Galo murmurs. “Leave things behind?”

Ignis nods, the slightest tilt of his head. “Yes.”

“What did you have to leave?”

“That, kiddo, is a story for another day,” says Ignis. His voice is surprisingly gentle, but there’s a weight behind it—no doubt, a long career of hard choices. “That aside… us splitting up is a part of evolving too. And we may be split up, but squad 3 will always be family. We all helped shape each other, and there’s no distance and no time apart that will ever change that. I want you to remember that, all right?”

Remembering seemed like that was the only thing Galo could do… but oddly enough, hearing Ignis’ words, he feel a little lighter, reassured.

His squad would always be his squad, his family that he had found a home with. Ignis, Remi, Aina, Varys, Lucia—they might be separated, but they could always catch up and keep in contact, he’d definitely run into them during events and ceremonies involving the brigade, he might even run into them during rescue missions. But even if they didn’t, they would always be a part of his life. They were a part of the reason he was here today.

“I have to start making my way to the commissioner’s office,” says Ignis, glancing up at the large digital clock on the wall. “One more thing before I go: people often say, ‘don’t do something you’ll regret’. But more than that? Do something you _won’t_ regret. The Galo Thymos way, you might say.”

Galo looks surprised. “Do something I won’t regret? Well, yeah, sure, but… what?”

But Ignis just nods wisely. “I’ll be heading off. Tell your captain I said hi, and tell your vice that he still owes me a drink.”

“Um, right!” says Galo, jumping to his feet. “It was really nice seeing you, Captain.”

“Former Captain.”

Galo straightens his back and smiles. “Always my Captain.”

At this, Ignis actually chuckles, moustache lifting to something like a grin (Galo files this away as bragging rights for the next time he sees Aina), and he claps Galo’s shoulder jovially. “Always our squad 3. See you soon, kiddo.”

And Ignis leaves the rec area. Galo returns his unfinished Corona to the fridge.  
  


* * *

  
“Hey, Galo. Are you free this Thursday evening?” Aina says over the phone the next day.

Galo squashes his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he rummages through his bag for his FDPP station pass. Today had been a physical training and workout day with his new squad. Though he still had a little over two weeks until he could officially start working with them, they had invited him along to build team rapport, and Galo was always up for team rapport. Training had felt good, and now, late afternoon, he was on his way back home.

He thinks for a moment, runs his schedule through his head, and then says, “Yeah, I think so. What’s up?”

“Oh, good! I want to have a small get-together at the FDPP then. It’s the night before Lio leaves and we’re cutting it a bit short, but it’s the only time that everyone else is free. Varys said he’ll take care of the food, so you _know_ we’re gonna be eating well.”

“Oh… Oh, right.” Another lurching in his stomach. Galo locates his pass.

“I’ve told everyone to get to the FDPP rec area at around six, so could you do a quick clean-up? And Varys will need the kitchen.”

“Yeah, I can do all that in the morning. I’m with my new squad in the afternoon, though, so I might come in late.”

“As long as you get there! Don’t think I won’t go hunting you down, Galo!”

“I’m not stupid enough to doubt you.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, then! And no take-backs!” 

“Wasn’t planning on it!” says Galo indignantly.

Aina hangs up. Galo reaches the station and swipes his pass to let himself in.

So Lio would be leaving Promepolis at the end of this week.

 _God_ , was it already so soon? Two weeks, he had said. Two measly weeks, as if that was ever enough time to prepare for his absence, to get so many Burnish affairs in order that involved him and to delegate the responsibilities to others, to…

Wait, no. Galo had been the last to know, hadn’t he? Lio had told everyone else first, and he’d probably started preparing to leave a while ago. Why was that? Sometimes, Lio could be a little tricky to read, but Galo rather thought that he’d got the gist of him by now, so… this didn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t Lio tell him something so important earlier on?

Well, there was the matter of Galo not reacting well to his news. So, Galo supposes he couldn’t really blame him…

He drops his bag into his room. Lio, Gueira, and Meis are currently out. All the other rooms at the FDPP are unoccupied, with everyone moving into new lodgings over the past month. Lucia has the most belongings scattered around the FDPP that she’s slowly collecting, but even she’s already relocated to a larger premise with more room to create whatever good chaos she needed. Aina’s right: Galo really is the last one.

He takes a deep breath. He’s not used to the FDPP being so quiet. Even when they weren’t fighting Burnish fires, there was always something to do, always chores to work, machinery being used and tested, voices and noises around. Right now, he’s the only one at the station, and this is not something he’s used to.

But he’ll be okay. Because he has no choice but to move on, but, as Captain Ignis said, this was part of evolving, adapting to new things, to the new world, taking on the next step in his life, and if he was going to be the best firefighter in the world, then he had to take all of this on board. Because he’s the only one here, but he’s not alone. Because squad 3 would always be his family, and because he’ll form new connections and new friendships down the track, too. 

And Lio…

 _God_. Galo could change the world, but he can’t change Lio’s mind about leaving; he knew this much was clear. When it came to the wellbeing of the Burnish, Lio would walk the Earth for them. He always looked to the future, always thought about what he could do to give his people a better life, always carried so much on his shoulders, cared so much, loved so much.

And Galo supposes that’s what he liked about Lio. He was a goner the moment they met that day by the burning pharmaceuticals building.

No wonder it was so hard to let him go.

But letting him go was something Galo had to do. It was less ‘Lio walking away’, and more ‘Lio walking towards a new future’. Regardless of Galo’s feelings on the matter, Lio had made up his mind, so now, it was just a matter of whether or not they left on good terms.

And leaving on bad terms was just not an option. Not because Galo would ever be happy about him leaving, but because… he _likes_ Lio, and Lio deserves to leave knowing he has people supporting him. He didn’t deserve Galo being upset with him. If they left on bad terms, then Galo would regret it, and Galo Thymos does not allow for regrets. He would see Lio off with a smile, and things would be good between them again. This would be part of evolving, adapting, moving on with the next step of their lives—a brighter future.  
  


* * *

  
Galo starts with breakfast. 

And, as shocking as it had been at the time, he stops calling Lio’s news a ‘bomb’ in his head. It had been a piece of shocking news, and that was it. He couldn’t treat it as something worse—not if he wanted to make it up to Lio.

Since Lio had told him his… news, they hadn’t had breakfast together, not even with Gueira and Meis around. Galo noted it had been a mix of Lio being even busier than usual, and straight-up avoiding having to be in the same room as Galo for too long. Up until now, breakfast was made by Galo if the fridge was stocked enough, or simply cereal or toast instead. Lio would make them all coffee, and they—either just the two of them, or with the others if they decided to hang around—would enjoy a light meal together before they set off for the day. They had now gone more than a week without it.

So. Breakfast. It was a good place to start. Lio had been getting up a little later than usual so he could avoid Galo, which, give how busy he was, meant that he had less time for a meal, and that the kitchen’s supply of cereal, protein bars and breakfast bars, and on-the-go snacks were quickly depleting.

Today, Galo had fried up eggs and bacon for himself and for Gueira and Meis, who had muttered vaguely about Lio wanting to sleep in a little more, which Galo had already figured out was code for “he’s still avoiding you, dingus”. Galo thinks that they’ve actually been very kind to him, given that he knows they’d drop everything in a heartbeat to unleash a can of whoopass on him if Lio hadn’t told them not to fuss. He supposes he gets a few brownie points for saving Lio’s life. That, and the fact that they’re on Team Galo when it came to wanting Lio to stay.

After they finish their breakfast and leave, Galo locates Lio’s Burning Rescue red thermos in the cupboard with all the other mugs and cups. The fact that Lio actually uses it makes his stomach do a little flip. Galo makes coffee the way he knows Lio likes it and fills up the thermos, and then grills up a ham and cheese sandwich (he grills it to _perfection_ , even if he does say so himself), wrapping it neatly in baking paper. He sets both on the kitchen countertop next to the pantry that housed all the snacks and dry food, and then heads out to start his day.

He doesn’t see Lio at all for the rest of the day, but Lio’s thermos is left on the drying rack next to the sink when Galo heads into the kitchen for a glass of water before turning in for the night. 

Galo does it again the next day: coffee in the thermos, and a breakfast pita wrap with scrambled eggs, tomato, and bacon. That evening, the thermos is on the drying rack again, but this time, there’s a note on the countertop: ‘ _Thank you –Lio_ ’ 

They carry on over the next few days. It’s nice, it’s easy, and Galo realises he’s not as brave as people think he is. He can do breakfasts from a distance. He can do thank-you notes. But he’s still not sure he can face Lio just yet.

And by how little he sees of Lio, he wonders if it’s the same for him.  
  


* * *

  
Thursday arrives. By the time Galo reaches the FDPP kitchen for breakfast, he just misses Lio, glimpsing him turning the corner whilst on a phone call, saying, “—set for a 2pm delivery today, but they’ve been saying that for the past _week_.” There are two breakfast bar wrappers in the bin and a mug he sometimes uses on the drying rack. His thermos is gone from the cupboard. Breakfast was already over for him. Galo helps himself to some cereal, and remembers Aina had asked him to tidy the rec area and clean the kitchen for Varys to use.

Come evening, after a trial run with his new squad attending to a house fire, Galo finally turns up to squad 3’s party in the rec area, the last to arrive. There’s a large table in the middle, a few streamers and balloons hanging off the nearby railing, and a pair of speakers sitting on top of the cabinet in the corner, playing R&B and hip-hop songs. Remi immediately slaps a paper plate against his chest and points him to the table, loaded with dishes of food and a few boxes of pizza.

“Varys made everything except for the pizza, and _god help me_ if you hadn’t shown up, I would’ve eaten all the stir-fried noodles myself, but I’m meant to be setting a good example, so _eat up_.”

“I’ll give you the recipe, man,” says Varys with a wide, pleased grin.

“You _know_ it’s never gonna be as good as how you’ve made it!”

“Oh, _hell yes,_ you made your mushroom quiches! I’ve missed those,” says Galo, pulling three quiches onto his plate. 

“And shrimp bites! _Shrimp biiites!_ ” Aina slides a wide plate across the table towards him, bouncing on her feet happily.

“Varys…” Lucia sighs as she watches Galo fill his plate. “Can’t we all just transfer to your squad?”

Varys laughs. “I’ll mention it to my captain, but I don’t think any of yours will be too pleased.”

“Once they try your food, they’ll be trying to transfer to your squad, too.” 

“Mm. I, for one, can confirm that I’m tempted,” says Ignis.

They stand around, chatting and laughing and eating. Over in a cluster of plastic chairs near where Lucia’s computer used to be, Lio is sitting with Gueira and Meis, an empty paper plate lying across his lap as he discusses something on a piece of paper with them. Galo can’t hear them, but he watches as Gueira, grinning, yanks the paper out of Lio’s hands, folds it up, and tucks it into his pocket. He points to Lio’s paper plate and then at the table. Lio rolls his eyes but smiles, and stands from his chair. Galo feels a wild swoop in the pit of his stomach somewhere and looks away, focusing on his food. 

“Please tell me there are still some of those potato stacks left,” says Lio, approaching the table. “Why aren’t you running a restaurant instead, Varys? I bet you’d make a killing with a catering company, too.”

“You know, I’ve been saying that since the _start_ ,” says Lucia.

“Thanks, buddy,” says Varys with a chuckle. He picks up a pair of tongs and uses them to slide two potato stacks onto Lio’s plate. “You know, we’ll probably have food leftover, so you could take some with you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” says Lio, “but I’m not sure when I’ll have access to a microwave or a stove, so…”

“Well, guess we’ll just have to have another party when you get back, then!”

Lio smiles. “Sounds great.”

Galo swallows—almost forces—down a mouthful of stir-fried noodles, keenly avoiding looking up. It really is delicious, but for a moment, it had tasted like chalk in his mouth. He sets his plate down and claims a cup of fruit punch for himself.

“Hey, you two!” Remi snaps his fingers at Gueira and Meis. “Food’s not gonna eat itself! I see space on your plates, so get over here!”

“No need to tell us twice,” says Meis, grinning as they stand.

“ _Jackass_ , did you take the last of the mozzarella sticks?” Gueira says, staring at Galo’s plate. Hastily, Galo picks it back up and holds it protectively to his chest.

“There was, like, two left! You were slow.”

“ _‘Slow’ my ass!_ ”

“You want the sauce? There’s still sauce.”

“ _You lil’ sh—_ ”

With a grin, Meis grabs Gueira by the collar and pulls him towards the other end of the table. Whilst looking Gueira right in the eye, Galo picks up a mozzarella stick and very pointedly bites into it. Gueira flips his middle finger up at him, but he’s grinning, too. 

And then, Lio snatches the last mozzarella stick from Galo’s plate and takes a bite. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like the past two weeks haven’t been tense between them, like everything is okay, Lio grins at him mischievously between his chewing, and Galo throws him a wide-eyed, indignant look. Gueira whoops loudly. 

“ _Did you just steal my—?_ ”

“Yeah,” says Lio, looking like he’s fighting back a laugh. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I—” Galo tries to come up with a response, but he’s frozen in place, brain refusing to work. 

He hadn’t seen Lio smile like that in a while, had he? When had been the last time? They hadn’t really properly spoken since Lio told Galo he was leaving, and…

And Lio is leaving _tomorrow_.

Galo thinks of play-fights and accidentally causing mishaps together; Lio’s teasing smile as he jokes about painting his new thermos a more low-key colour than “Burning Rescue red”; three kids from B14 joining forces to try pulling Galo’s hand down in a very one-sided arm-wrestling match, and Lio’s laughter as he cheers them on, clear in the afternoon sky; breakfast and the slant of Lio’s handwriting on his thank-you notes. He thinks of beating each other up alongside the burning pharmaceuticals building, meeting in the cave by the ice lake, watching Lio’s dragon light Promepolis’ streets on fire. He thinks of dawn breaking over the quiet new world. He remembers how stiff Lio had looked when he told Galo his news.

“Galo? Do you—Do you want it back?” says Lio awkwardly. “I mean, there’s, uh, still half left…”

Remi chokes on his beer as he starts laughing, and the sound stirs Galo from his messy thoughts. He pulls himself together—

—and snatches a potato stack right from Lio’s plate.

“HEY!”

Cramming it into his mouth, Galo dodges Lio swiping at him and ducks behind Aina, who tries in vain to get out of the way. Everyone is laughing, now.

(How could Lio be so easy about this, like Galo hadn’t made an ass of himself by behaving like a child two weeks ago? How could he be so… _forgiving?_ )

Throughout the evening, they continue eating and pinching food and teasing each other, but Galo and Lio never really sit down to have a conversation. Maybe they’re just putting on a show for the sake of the others, because there’s still a tension there that neither address, and Galo can laugh it off all he wants but the truth is, each minute edges closer and closer to tomorrow. This time tomorrow, Lio would be out of the city.

Right now, Ignis is regaling them with stories of his time in the academy and the shenanigans he’d gotten up to. Remi and Lucia are in tears with laughter, partially because of the stories, partially because it’s hard to picture Ignis as a gangly young man, and partially because of the beer they’ve been drinking. Galo and Lio are sitting side-by-side with just a tiny gap between them, eating, listening, laughing, and, in Lio’s case, occasionally offering a snarky but good-natured quip about fires. 

The minutes keep passing. It gets a little harder and harder to breathe.

“—never let him live it down!” Ignis is saying. “He was a good sport, though; he got it tattooed on his ankle. Damn ugly thing, and whenever we get together for drinks, he always wears sandals so we can all see it.”

Varys throws his head back and laughs, accidentally bumping into Meis and knocking his cup of drink out of his hand.

“Oh, sorry, man!” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes as he reaches for the nearby stack of napkins.

“All good, there wasn’t much left.”

Galo takes this chance.

“Speaking of,” he says loudly, standing from his seat, “I’m taking this last delicious mushroom quiche”—he pops it into his mouth—“an’ ‘m gonn’ head to bed.”

“Whaaat?” Lucia protests. “You old man, it’s only half past nine!”

Galo smirks at her through his chewing. “Just because _you_ have a terrible sleeping schedule, doesn’t mean _I_ do. I gotta be up early tomorrow and ready to face the day!”

“You’re not even rostered on anywhere tomorrow!”

“Not officially. They’ve never been able to stop me before.”

Ignis snorts into his beer. Remi rolls his eyes.

“ _Gaaalooo_ …” Lucia whines.

“Thanks for the food, Varys! Everything was amazing, as always! If there are any dishes needing to be washed, just leave them in the kitchen and I can do them in the morning.”

“Sure thing, buddy. I’ll put some of the leftovers in the fridge, and you can reheat them.”

“You’re the best! G’night, everyone!”

“ _Goodniiiiight_ ,” everyone chimes.

“ _Old maaaaan_ ,” says Lucia.

Galo slips his hands into his pockets and tries to keep his gait casual as he heads towards the stairs. But then, he hears a faint “excuse me” in Lio’s voice, pardoning himself from the party. Galo keeps walking.

Lio’s light footsteps follow him down the corridors, present enough that Galo knows they’re there, present enough to let him know they’re there. They keep the same distance the whole time, right up until they climb the stairs leading to the FDPP rooftop. Galo opens the door, takes a deep breath of fresh air, and—he holds it open without looking back. He lets go when he feels it slacken against his hand as Lio takes it from him, and moves to sits down by the wall running along the edges of the rooftop, overlooking the city. The sky is patchy with clouds, but the moon is large and bright. The city sparkles beneath them in a net of lights. Lio quietly sits down beside him, and Galo isn’t sure he’s ever felt so far away from Lio, from everyone, from everything.

For a while, they sit there in silence. Tomorrow can hit Galo with everything it has, but just for now, he pretends that nothing is changing. There’s another small gap between them, and it feels like a chasm. He wants for them to play-fight or bicker, or to do something to quell that awful churning feeling in his stomach—for Lio to say that he doesn’t really want to leave, he wishes he could stay, he’s changed his mind, _something_.

But out there, there are Burnish who really do need Lio’s help, and knowing this, Lio must feel frustrated too. If it was Galo, he could hardly stand still, knowing there was so much more he could be doing, could he? If their roles were reversed, what would Lio do? What would Galo do?

Would Lio be as self-centred as Galo was being now?

“Where are you headed first, tomorrow?” Galo finally asks with some difficulty. 

“Detroit,” Lio replies, but doesn’t elaborate.

Detroit. Not a short journey, but not _wildly_ out of the way, either. Maybe Galo could even—… it’s true that he doesn’t have a shift tomorrow… he could take his motorbike… no, that probably wouldn’t work… he could take the train… it’d be a long train ride, but… 

But Promepolis needs him. He has firefighting and rescue duties that he’s pledged his heart and soul to. Promepolis isn’t Lio’s home, but it’s _Galo’s_. And Lio had not asked him to come with him. He can’t follow Lio there—to Detroit, to Dallas, to Miami, to wherever. He can’t.

He… _can’t._

Galo thinks of all the people he’s ever loved. He thinks about letting them go. He thinks about never being given the choice.

Ah. 

Hell.

 _Hell_ , he can’t take it anymore.

“Welp, it’s bedtime,” Galo says. “Gotta be up early tomorrow, so goodnight!” He hops to his feet and avoids looking at Lio, because his throat is tight and there’s a prickle in his eyes, and he’ll be _damned_ if he starts crying in front of him. This is hard enough as it is—for Galo, but for Lio, too—so he is going to be _in control_ of his emotions, he’s going to be calm and cool and _composed_ about it, he’s going to—

Lio grabs onto his hand as Galo walks by, and Galo’s breath catches, all that determination draining out of him.

“Can we talk?” says Lio.

“It’s getting late, I gotta—”

Lio presses his forehead against their hands and stays there, waiting for Galo to sit back down. Not giving him the choice, not letting him walk away from all this, not letting him pretend that nothing is changing.

This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Lio could ask Galo to stay, but Galo couldn’t ask the same of him. 

“C’mon, _let go,_ ” says Galo. His voice wavers dangerously, a plea. 

“I will. But, not yet,” says Lio quietly. “Sit with me for a bit. Please?”

A choice, almost. A request, not a command, but Lio still wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

With a deep breath, Galo moves to sit back down. Lio lets go and turns so they face each other, and—

“I’m sorry,” Galo blurts out, bowing his head. “I know I’ve been really selfish and childish. I haven’t been supportive at all. The Burnish need you, so you should… you should be out there. They’ll feel better knowing you’re around.” Because that was the case for Galo. Because he’s happier with Lio here, because he really likes Lio’s company, because something about Lio’s presence gives him energy in a way that fighting a fire doesn’t.

“I… I appreciate that. Thank you,” says Lio. “But I’m not mad or anything, I promise. And I’m not here to talk about them. I wanted to talk about you and me.”

Galo feels his heart splutter out of rhythm for a beat, and he raises his head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that I’m coming back,” says Lio. “You know I will.”

Galo knows. He thinks he knows? No, he didn’t know—Lio had said he’d come back, but Galo hadn’t really believed it. And he didn’t know how much he needed Lio’s reassurance until he feels that tightness in his chest begin to loosen a little.

“You should come back because you want to,” he says.

Lio’s face softens into a tiny smile. “And that’s why I’ll be coming back.”

“But… you said Promepolis isn’t—”

“It was never about Promepolis. Promepolis isn’t my home, and my home is not a place. My home is my friends and my family.” Lio taps a finger to his chest, over his heart. “Right here. I carry my home right here.”

And then, he slides closer until their crossed legs fit against each other comfortably. They have not been so close to each other in a long time. Before Galo can open his mouth to speak, Lio presses his right fist to Galo’s chest, over his heart, and whatever he was going to say dies in his throat. Lio holds his gaze.

“I will carry you with me,” he says quietly. “Everywhere I go, you’ll be there, too. When I’m scared or tired or doubting myself, I’ll think of you. When I think of home, I’ll think of you.”

Downstairs, the squad is probably still together. Someone’s probably started some sort of drinking game. Outside, two cars beep as they drive past. There’s faint music coming from buskers down the street. Underneath it all, there’s the rumbling of traffic and wind. But, right here, right now, the world is made up of just Galo and Lio, sitting up on this rooftop, away from everything else. Lio could’ve whispered everything he’d just said, and Galo would’ve still heard him, clear as day. He runs Lio’s words in his head, over and over and over again. 

After what feels like an age, Galo drops his gaze. He clasps Lio’s fist and pulls it from his chest, uncurling his fingers and gently running his thumbs over the back of his hand, his veins, his knuckles, the faint scar at the base of his thumb from a mishap involving a toolbox three or four months ago, the healing scab of a scratch on his index finger from some other minor incident, the tiny birthmark on the side of his ring finger.

Lio’s hands are small, but they are hands that held the world. Hands that hurt and healed, destroyed and rebuilt, set half the city on fire and comforted a dying woman. These are hands that would always fight for a brighter future, for a world beyond this city, beyond Lio, beyond Galo.

He would see Lio off with a smile, because that’s what Lio deserved, and when he was ready to return, Galo would be right here. Because Lio wasn’t someone Galo ever needed to say goodbye to. No matter how far apart they were from each other, they would never need to say goodbye.

He wonders, for a moment, if he could ever define a love like this.

“You’re really incredible, you know?” says Galo.

Lio smiles slightly. “I could say the same for you.”

Galo gives a snort of laughter. “Everyone’s always trying to get me to stay humble, but here _you_ are…”

“Mm... if the circumstances were different, I’d probably agree with them. But… if you weren’t incredible, then the decision to leave wouldn’t have been so hard.”

Somewhat involuntarily, Galo’s hands curl around Lio’s, and his lips purse in a line. He can’t just… _say_ something like that and expect Galo to not be affected by it, like it wouldn’t make it harder to let him go.

“You’ve thought about this for a long time, huh?” he murmurs instead. Lio takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“About three months after the Promare left, I started thinking about leaving. And then, I spent five months arguing with myself. Promepolis isn’t my home, but I… found something close enough that it made a big part of me want to stay. Remember? When I told you I was leaving, you said that I should do what makes me happy?” Lio licks his lips uncertainly. “I think… staying would’ve made me happy.”

Galo’s heart stutters a beat again. “Yeah?”

“I mean, I’m not saying it’s been easy, but since meeting you, working with you almost every day… I found myself thinking that I could really build a new life for myself here. And that’s why I had to leave. I was going to get too comfortable and complacent, otherwise. I wouldn’t want to go.” Lio pauses for a moment, tilts his head back so he’s facing the sky, and takes another deep breath. “You and me, we weren’t born to sit around. We were born to change the world. Give people hope and reassurance. Challenge the status quo. And there are still so many more Burnish out there who need help, and—”

“The work is bigger than either of us,” says Galo. Lio nods.

“I had to draw courage from every good thing I was feeling and start making arrangements before I could change my mind. I couldn’t back down. Well, I say ‘courage’, but…” He ducks his head. “Half the reason I didn’t tell you until just two weeks ago was because I didn’t know how. The other half was because… I thought that if I told you sooner, you’d have more time to convince me to stay. And I don’t think I could’ve said no.”

“Hah… you really knew I’d try, huh?” says Galo. Lio scoffs.

“You, Galo Thymos, don’t _try_ anything. You just _do_.”

He was right. He was right about everything. 

And for once, Galo doesn’t know how to respond to that. But he does know this: if Lio was struggling with something, then the only thing there was for Galo to do was to help him. Helping people had always been in his blood, and it was the same for Lio. And, now that he thinks about it, it was how they had met in the first place, wasn’t it? 

“I want a bajillion photos,” says Galo earnestly. “And I want souvenirs from every city you travel to.”

“I can do that,” says Lio, nodding. “I’ll get those keychains in the shape of the state that weigh a tonne each, with the city’s name over it in rainbow colours.”

“You gotta get me snow globes, too. The ones that look like they were made in the eighties, and they’re still slowly phasing them out.”

A little grin quirks at Lio’s mouth. “There’s something kind of ironic about me getting _snow globes_ , but I promise you, I will send you the _tackiest_ snow globes I can find.”

“Snacks, too.”

“I will ask the locals for the best.”

“Don’t you dare be stingy with chocolates.”

“Never.”

Galo takes a deep breath, exhales slowly, and lets his eyes trail over every part of Lio’s face, committing it all to memory. 

As if he would ever forget. 

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

The smile on Lio’s face widens, and Galo thinks about what he would do for that smile—what he would give for Lio to continue smiling if he ever needed reasons to, all he would protect, all he would sacrifice.

“Galo Thymos,” says Lio, only fondness in his eyes. “We couldn’t be strangers even if we tried.”

The first time they met, by the burning pharmaceuticals building; the second time they met, near the ice lake when Galo happened to catch sight of Lio’s Burnish fire streaking across the sky like a shooting star; the third time, during Lio’s rampage through Promepolis, leaving blistering flames in his wake. They were never ordinary meetings—the universe bent itself backwards and forced the stars and planets to align just so they could meet again and again and again. And if something that grand could happen, then Galo had to have faith that it could happen again.

Because what would they be, if they didn’t have faith? What would they do, if they were not changing the world for the better?

They would both continue doing what they were born to do whilst chasing a lifetime of happiness—not as strangers, never as strangers, but as two people who carried home close to the chest. No matter how far apart they were, they would never need to say goodbye—they would simply continue to follow the trails of fire that would always, always lead them to each other.

And with a little laugh and a grin on his own face, Galo finally lets go of Lio’s hand.  
  


* * *

  
Galo wakes up early the next morning as always. When he peeks over at Lio’s room down the hall, the door is ajar, and it is empty. He is gone.

  
—

  
Later, after he’s finished washing all the dishes from last night’s party, he calls Aina.

“Hey, Galo,” she says when she answers. Her voice is gentle, understanding, like she knows exactly why he’s calling.

“Hey… I’ve been thinking about your offer to move in with you. I’d like to take you up on it, if it’s still on the table.”

He hears her give a soft huff of laughter.

“Only if you agree to my ground rules,” she says. He can hear the smile in her voice. “Roomie.”  
  


* * *

  
Galo keeps in touch with Lio over the next year and counting. Technology is a wonderful thing, and they’re able to video-call to each other often, but sometimes Lio is god-knows-where without decent reception, or they’re both busy with work, and they go for days without a word.

“The weather has been _shit_ ,” says Lio wearily one day. “It keeps bucketing with rain. One of the housing complexes around here has a lot of problems with water leaking, so it’s been rough on them.”

“Have you been to—” Galo begins as he hears the front door open, pounding footsteps, and then—

“ _Is that Lio?!_ ” Aina barrels into him on the couch, yanking his tablet from his hands. “ _Hi, Lio!_ Love the haircut!”

“Hey, Aina,” says Lio, smiling. “Thanks. It’s nice and light.”

“Have you been well? Eating okay? We hadn’t heard from you in like, two weeks. This guy was getting _really_ mopey.” Aina yelps as Galo jabs her in the ribs and tries to snatch the tablet back, but she tightens her hold and bolts off the couch, making a beeline into her room. Galo can hear Lio laughing. He rolls his eyes, heads into the kitchen, and starts gathering ingredients for dinner.

Lio has been away for almost a year and a half, now; Galo stopped counting the days after exactly six months. Truthfully, he’s not sure why he started in the first place. He’s only human. He forgives himself this.

Gueira and Meis have stayed true to their word, holding down the fort every day, taking on every single grievance the Burnish airs to them and pooling together all their resources to fix whatever issue crops up. Truthfully, they both work together so well, that it feels like Lio had never left. Galo checks in with them often, not because he thinks they can’t handle everything, but because it wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t offer his help.

“It’s just a miscommunication with the delivery, it’s nothing we can’t handle,” says Meis one day, shooing him out of the office they’ve set up above a convenience store owned by one of the Burnish. “We’ll be okay. But you just finished a long shift, so go rest up.”

“I’m fine, though!”

“You can’t be a good rescuer if you don’t get some rest! Don’t worry, we’ll come to you for help if we need it. You know we do.”

“Promise?” Galo stops at the top of the stairs leading out.

“Yeah, man. Now get outta here, or I’ll tell the boss you stopped by.”

“Not sure how that’s a threat,” says Galo. But he’s grinning as he starts making his way down. “Tell Gueira I said hi!”

“See you, big guy.”

From the former squad 3, Ignis is still with his firefighting squad, and is as well-respected as ever. Remi had been promoted and given his own squad to command, too, and the captain’s badge had sat on his chest like it belonged there the day he had received it. Varys had taken to stepping back from firefighting duties a little to help train new recruits; he’s quickly become a favourite instructor, and many of his trainees end up being top score earners in all sorts of exams and tests. Lucia’s Fex Industries is growing at a comfortable rate and her inventions and upgrades are better and better each time; all firefighting squads who use her tech note less injuries and less collateral damage with each quarterly report. Aina has been recommended to take on the vice captain’s role of her aerial rescue squad, which would make her the youngest of the current brigade; she also has a bunch of new flying records to her name. She and Galo are still housemates; Lucia, Remi, and Varys had placed bets on how long it’d be before they tried killing each other, but after four months with few problems, they eventually gave up. Apparently, _Ignis_ had placed a bet on how long it’d be before they gave up the bet, and now, everyone owes him dinner.

And Galo is just… Galo, doing what he does best: firefighting and helping people in all manner of emergencies, big and small. He’s earned himself a variety of medals and honours over the past year and half, and he’ll sit through the ceremonies quietly, and then obliging entertain and wave and blow kisses to fans. But when he’s back home, he’ll tuck all his awards neatly into a box on a shelf in his room, and continue on with his day.

(That same shelf has a section above it currently dedicated to a dozen snow globes and counting, alongside several keychains with different cities’ names splashed across them, and various other trinkets, including a rectangular turquoise pendant, two shot glasses, two coasters, a mug, and a bracelet tied with nautical knots.)

Lio tells Galo about his travels around the country in detail: the funny traditions of such-and-so city during such-and-so holiday, the awful weather but great food of the next town, the skyscrapers of the city after that. But in particular, he tells him about the work he’s done with the communities and communities of Burnish people he’s met, all of whom have heard of him. 

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be _that_ famous.”

Galo squints at him disbelievingly. “ _Seriously…?_ ”

There is still lots of work to be done, many groups still needing basic necessities and services, and some needing better roofs over their heads, but their local governments were slow to respond—and in some cases, reluctant, which was where Lio muscled himself in. Being the former leader of Mad Burnish trying to fit into the new world had its cons (some still hated him, some were still terrified of him (“Pfftt, they just don’t know better,” says Galo)) but also, surprisingly, its pros (people saw that Lio wasn’t so terrifying (“Yeah, they _really_ don’t know better.” “Which is it, Galo?!”) and that he was peacefully trying to open conversations, create bridges, and make a better life for the displaced people). Increasingly uncommon as they were, Lio also sometimes found himself in the middle of Burnish vs non-Burnish protests. 

(About five months after Lio had left Promepolis, he and Galo had opened up a video chat, only for Galo to see, with huge eyes, that Lio had a bandage over his left cheek and his left arm in a sling.

“Sooooo…” Lio had said, avoiding looking at the screen. “ _Crazy_ weekend…”)

They both took to heart that whenever the protests were started by bigots with anti-Burnish views, they were always outnumbered by much, much better people. The world was changing—too often frustratingly slowly, too often with the tiniest of steps at a time… but it was changing.

“Sometimes we have to make the change ourselves,” Lio says quietly over another video call. “Sometimes we have no choice. It’s hard, but I’m always gonna believe that it’s worth it in the end. And sometimes, I think I have no choice but to believe it.”

“Are you glad you left?” asks Galo with a little smile, proud. Lio smiles back.

“Yeah… Yeah, I am,” he replies.  
  


* * *

  
“I’m coming back to Promepolis,” says Lio at the start of winter, and Galo’s eyes widen.

“When?!”

“Tomorrow evening. My train’s scheduled to arrive at around seven.”

“ _I’m on night shift then!_ ” Galo squawks. Lio gives a huff of laughter.

“I had a feeling you would be. Sorry—I didn’t want to wait until the next train. Gueira and Meis already offered to pick me up from the station, and I’ll be crashing with them for a little while until I can sort out my next move. I’m getting dinner with them when I arrive.”

Galo makes a ‘ _tch_ ’ sound in exaggerated mock-annoyance and shakes his head. “Always gotta compete with them for your attention.”

Lio really does laugh now. “ _Galo_.” 

“Maybe the day after, then?”

“Of course.”

“Man, why don’t you tell me these things earlier? I could’ve swapped shifts with someone… arm-wrestled Gueira to see who gets to have dinner with you first…”

“ _Wow_ ,” says Lio, grinning. “I think I’m getting swept off my feet.”

Galo perks up. “Oh, so it’s working? I’ve been practising my smoothness since you left.”

“And who have you been practising on?”

“Lil’ old ladies. The mirror.”

Lio laughs again, and the sound wraps itself around Galo’s heart, cradles it, makes him think of the meaning of home, the meaning of _him_.

“I wasn’t sure I’d come back,” Lio admits when he calms down. “There’s still a lot of places I haven’t been to, and I left a lot of unfinished business in a lot of other places. I almost didn’t buy my train ticket. That’s why I didn’t say anything until now—I didn’t want to… get anyone’s hopes up, I guess.”

“So what made you change your mind?”

Lio doesn’t answer for a moment, and Galo almost thinks that their connection is bad again. But then, he recognises that look in Lio’s eyes—fondness. It makes him think of sitting together on the rooftop of the FDPP, right before they let each other go.

“I guess… I haven’t seen home in a while,” says Lio.  
  


* * *

  
There had been a small fire at the back of a burger restaurant, started by faulty wiring. Galo and his firefighting squad had arrived on scene shortly after it had been called in, and swiftly extinguished the flames. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, nothing they couldn’t handle. An ambulance accompanied them, treating a few people for smoke inhalation, but no one else had been injured.

“Nice job, Galo,” his captain says as she walks by him and claps his shoulder. “Fast as always. I mean, you still struck a pose, but…”

“That was _after_ we put the fire out!” Galo protests. “The kids love it!”

She snickers. “All right, all right. Everyone! Good work! Let’s clean up and clear out.”

The rest of their squad cheer in affirmation, fist-bumping her as she walks past each of them. It always reminds Galo a little of Ignis and his fist-bumps; he wonders if both captains picked that up back when they were in the academy.

They’ve drawn a small crowd around the caution tape they’ve put up. Some young kids are yelling and cheering; Galo waves enthusiastically. Some young women nearby are clapping and calling out Galo’s name; Galo blows them kisses. One of his teammates nudges him whilst laughing, another joins in blowing kisses to the crowd, and their vice-captain cuffs him over his helmet.

And then, there’s the oddest prickling sensation somewhere around the back of Galo’s neck. 

Somehow, somehow, somehow, as if some greater force had whispered ‘ _over here_ ’, when he looks over his shoulder to a spot across the road through the crowd, he finds _him_ right away, wearing a grey hoodie, black pants, and with a black cap covering half his face. Galo’s heart races, a feeling so different to the adrenaline rush that his job brings. He mutters a ‘ _be right back_ ’ to his vice-captain and ducks under the caution tape, slipping through the crowd and crossing the road, and then stopping in front of him. 

Lio raises his head, peering at him from under his cap. He takes it off when Galo removes his helmet, and right now, the world is made up of just the two of them. 

“Would you believe me if I said I had nothing to do with that fire?” says Lio.

Galo gives a huff of laughter. “Should I be believing otherwise?”

“Do you believe in coincidence, then?”

Lio’s smile is playful, but Galo’s heart skips a beat. Coincidence was Mad Burnish choosing their plan of attack that day by the pharmaceuticals building and Galo being with the right squad at the right time. Coincidence was being at the ice lake, just in time to see Lio’s Burnish fire reflecting off the surface. Coincidence was his flames slicing open Galo’s prison after Kray Foresight locked him up. Did Galo believe in coincidence? They _were_ coincidence. Coincidence was how they met over and over and over again.

“What are you doing here, Lio?” he asks instead.

Lio nods at the burger restaurant. “Gueira and Meis got called away on some urgent business. It sounded like they had it handled, and they asked me to stay back, so I offered to pick up dinner instead. I was in the queue to order when the fire started and we had to evacuate… I might just go back to the pizza place we always used to go to.”

Galo tilts his head to the side and raises his eyebrows, a curiosity that he doesn’t need to vocalise when Lio shrugs.

“You said you were on night shift,” he explains. “I thought I’d hang around and try my luck and see who showed up to put out the fire.”

“You think this is luck?” says Galo, a little grin playing at his mouth. 

There’s a familiar fondness in Lio’s eyes, and he smiles when he says: “I think that… you and I couldn’t be strangers even if we tried.”

Galo thinks of all he would do for that smile. He thinks of small hands that held the world; breakfasts and a bright red thermos; play fights and Lio’s laughter, clear in the afternoon sky; Lio’s fist pressed against his chest, over his heart. He thinks of the meaning of home.

“Wanna grab breakfast tomorrow?” Galo asks.

“Don’t you need to sleep?”

“I can sleep afterwards.”

“Oh…” Lio nods. “Okay, then. Let’s get breakfast.”

“Great! I’ll call you when—”

“ _GALOOO!_ ” his captain bellows behind him, and he jumps, quickly putting his helmet back on. Lio gives a little bark of laughter, and Galo flashes him a grin.

“Back to work!” he says. “See you tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow,” Lio echoes. 

Galo turns and hurries back to join his squad, but before he’s out of sight, he steals another look over his shoulder. Lio raises a hand in a wave, still smiling at him, and Galo thinks he understands now: that Lio isn’t the only one coming home after a long journey. For both of them, home has never been a place—home is the friends and family and connections they had forged through fire, in every literal and metaphorical sense. Home is the feeling of Galo’s heartbeat racing and home is the smile on Lio’s face. Home is the goodbyes they would never have to say. Home is—

Galo picks up his pace and rejoins his squad.

Home is the trails of fire that would always, always lead them to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/naffnuffnice)


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